Jurassic Park: The Game - a fanfiction
by callousfinch
Summary: Jurassic Park is a theme park situated on an island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean which features real live dinosaurs. Wonder soon turns to terror as the actions of a disgruntled employee gives the dinosaurs free reign of the park. Now, a handful of survivors must try to escape from the prehistoric beasts and return home to their families. But will they make it?
1. Chapter 1

Gerry Harding stood on the little patch of grass between the gravel road and the paddock. His daughter Jess stood beside him. They were situated in front of the Triceratops paddock, hoping to catch a glimpse of them before the oncoming storm would force them to return to the park.  
There was a chilly breeze in the air. Storms like that were nothing to laugh at. Jess hugged her chest and shivered with cold. She was just wearing a T-shirt and shorts, hardly the proper storm attire. Harding, on the other hand, was decked in the standard Jurassic Park wardrobe. Jess had made fun of his clothes when she first saw them, but now she was probably wishing she had a pair of those long-legged jeans, too.  
"Brr," she said through chattering teeth. "I'm freezing. Can we go back now?"  
"Don't you want to see the Triceratops?" Harding replied.  
"Well, yeah. But not if I freeze to death as a result."  
"I told you shorts were a bad idea."  
"You never like it when I wear them."  
It was true. If Harding could have his way, she never would wear anything that didn't reach her knees. But, he didn't want to be that kind of parent who restricted what their kid could or couldn't wear. He'd leave that to her mother.  
"I'm just saying that when you travel somewhere exotic, it might be a good idea to pack some jeans," Harding explained, trying to quell the tension.  
"I _did_ pack some jeans. I just didn't think I'd need them," Jess responded with a hint of sass.  
"Well, now you know."  
Harding looked at his watch. Quarter passed eight. If they wanted to make the boat, they'd have to leave right away. But Harding still wanted Jess to see the Triceratops.  
"Come on," Jess said impatiently. She rubbed her bare arms frantically in an effort to warm herself. "They aren't coming. Let's just-"  
"Shh," Harding interrupted, raising a hand to silence her complaints. He'd heard it there, in the distance- a rustling sound.  
"What?" Jess whispered, suddenly intrigued.  
Harding pointed to his right. "They're coming. Probably three or four. Two adults and two babies by the sound of it."  
"How can you tell?" Jess asked, her tone betraying her interest.  
"You just learn," Harding said with a shrug.  
The rustling sound grew louder and louder until it was deafening. Jess was no longer thinking about the cold. Her attention was fixed solely on the foliage behind the fence. This was Harding's favourite part. Watching people's eager faces as they waited, one excruciating second at a time, until finally...  
"Holy s***," Jess gasped.  
Just as Harding predicted, two adult Triceratops and two juveniles emerged from the foliage. One of the adults was larger than the other; she was the Alpha. Harding liked to call her Lady Margaret.  
The four dinosaurs sniffed the air tentatively, then rolled their deep brown eyes to fix them on the two humans watching them from the opposite side of the fence.  
"Can they see us?" Jess asked in a hushed, strained voice.  
"Yes," Harding whispered back. "Triceratops don't have that great eyesight, but we're close enough for them to see us."  
"They're huge," Jess breathed. "And beautiful."  
Lady Margaret let out a big grunt. Breath exuded from her nostrils in a great puff. Then, she turned her massive head and plodded off into the bushes, followed quickly by the other three.  
"Wow," Jess exclaimed. "That was amazing. Now can we go back?"  
Harding looked at her, and sighed with amusement. "Mind of a child. You just saw real live Triceratops and all you can think about is the cold."  
"Survival instinct, dad," Jess chimed.  
Harding let out a soft laugh. "You're so witty. Real mystery why you don't have a boyfriend."  
Jess was quiet, and Harding glanced at her to see she was looking at the ground. "Oh, uh, sorry," he began, "I didn't mean-"  
"It's okay, dad. You're right. It is a mystery."  
An awkward silence lapsed. It was broken by a distant clap of thunder. The clouds began exuding rain.  
"Well, I think it's time we headed back," Harding said. Jess didn't complain. They turned and walked back to the Jeep, parked where they left it on the side of the road. Harding opened the door and got behind the wheel. Jess jumped in through the open window. "How many times have I asked you not to do that?" Harding asked her.  
She looked at him for a moment, then gave a non-committal shrug. "I dunno. Six? Seven times?"  
"Something like that." Harding turned the key and the engine rumbled to life. The headlights flashed on, illuminating the road ahead, and the dark figure of a person standing in front of them.  
Harding stared at the person in surprise. He couldn't make out the person's gender or identity; in the growing darkness, it was impossible to discern either. He was just beginning to form a greeting in his mind, when the person unexpectedly pitched forward and landed face-first on the road.


	2. Chapter 2

Harding opened his door and jumped out of his seat. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked. The person, lying in the middle of the road, gave no answer.  
Harding glanced back at Jess, who was still seated in the Jeep, her attention fixed forward. Harding told her to stay put, then began to walk forward. As he got nearer to the person, he began to make out some details. First: she was a woman. Costa Rican, judging by her skin tone. She had a slim physic and black hair, which was tightened into a bun on the back of her head. Seeing as she was lying on her stomach, Harding still couldn't tell if she was alive or not. Then he saw the wound. A ghastly, bloody gash on her right arm. Harding knelt down to better examine it. The skin was ripped and torn; it was possible she had fallen on something. But judging by the asymmetrical toothmarks imbedded in her skin, Harding had a feeling something much more serious had happened to her.  
Carefully, he reached out and picked up her arm. Suddenly, the woman let out a cry and ripped her arm out of his grip. She was frantic, scrabbling at the dirt and trying desperately to get away from him. After he got over the initial shock, Harding began to try and reassure her: "Hey, hey, it's okay! It's okay! I'm not going to hurt you. Calm down!"  
The woman ignored him and continued to scramble away, shouting in her native tongue. Harding stood up and ran after her, grabbing her left ankle. She screamed in absolute terror and kicked out madly with her right foot. The first couple of kicks missed by a mile, but the third connected with Harding's cheek. Pain erupted where her boot had connected with his face, and he let go of her to cup his cheek in his hands. The woman flipped back over onto her stomach and tried to crawl away.  
 _ _Oh no you don't__ , Harding thought. Feeling an unexpected surge of anger, Harding ran after her and put his hands on her back, pinning her to the ground. She screamed maniacally and tried to punch him, but he grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the ground above her head. He stuck his foot out and placed it on her abdomen, effectively trapping her. She struggled and screamed for about another half minute. With each passing second she grew more and more submissive and calm. Finally, with a final, desperate jerk, her head rolled to the side and she ceased moving altogether. Harding waited another half minute, just to make sure she wasn't psyching him out; when she did not move for those thirty seconds, he reluctantly let go of her wrists and removed his leg from her abdomen. She remained still. Harding pressed his forefingers to her neck, and was relieved to find a strong, if somewhat irregular, pulse. She was alive. Harding sat back and rested his hands on his knees, staring at this strange woman with a mixture of fear and intrigue.  
The sound of a door opening and slamming closed drew his attention to the Jeep. Through the harsh glare of the headlights, Harding saw Jesse's form approaching him. "Is she alive?" she asked.  
"Yes," Harding replied, getting to his feet.  
Jess looked down at the woman. Her face was unreadable. "Who is she?" she asked.  
"I don't know," Harding replied. "She doesn't look like she works here."  
Jess pointed to the bad wound on her arm. "Did something bite her?"  
"I don't... yes, I think so," Harding said, with some reluctance. He wanted to believe that something else could account for the woman's injury; but only a dinosaur could leave toothmarks like those.  
"What bit her?" Jess asked.  
"I'm not sure," Harding said.  
Another rumble of thunder, louder this time, broke the eerie quiet. "Come on," Harding said. "We have to get her to the park. She won't survive out her on her own." He bent down and put both arms under the woman, one under her knees and one under her back. He stood and began to walk back to the Jeep. Jess offered support, but there was no need; Harding was a big man and could easily carry this small woman on his own.  
"We'll put her in the back seat," Harding said. Carefully, he laid her down on the black cushions. She still didn't move. Harding checked her pulse one more time, just to make sure she was alive.  
"Why do you think she went crazy like that?" Jess asked him as he climbed into the driver's seat.  
Harding shook his head. "I don't know, Jesse, I don't know. But I hope to find out."  
He started the engine once more, heard it roar to life. With a glance at the woman in the back seat, he turned his gaze to the road ahead and sped off into the gathering darkness.


End file.
